


Doubt

by i_amtheoutlaw



Series: Destiel Short Stories [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bench scene</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doubt

Castiel’s inner monologue during this scene…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cc6VDVd-OkQ 

I also refer to this scene quite a few times, so you may want to check it out as well, if you have time…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=czQKWx36s-o 

The lightly frigid air dances across his flushed, pink cheekbones and for the first time I realize this is my favorite human in the entire universe to view. Especially like this, when he’s calm but still riling with passion, when the burning rays of sun are meeting his eyes perfectly and causing the green in his eyes to grow just like the soft, dewy grass beneath us, and when he blushes, weather from the cold or embarrassment, the way the faint redness illuminates his tiny freckles. I could watch him for hours, and never quite understand what it is that makes him so, so perfect. I’ve never felt perfection towards anything before, after all nothing is supposed to be perfect besides God, right? But there’s no denying it anymore, because as I sit on this old, wooden bench at this small park and look over at him, I know how I feel. Dean Winchester is perfect. From the way he sits now, with the collar of his leather jacket meeting the soft skin of his neck; to the way he was earlier, arguing with me, with his low, stern voice. 

Looking over at him, finding him lost in thought and gazing over the scenery of the colorful playground while sitting on the bench next to mine, I remember back to a time when God was wrathful, and ready to smite every person who inhabited that evil land past the mountains. Abraham asked God, “If there is ten good souls amongst the bad, will you still destroy everyone?” I imagine when God answered no, he was as shocked as I was yesterday, and when Uriel and I told Dean he had to leave the town because they were going to destroy it. In that moment I had no clue how Dean would react, I was hoping he would fight us. Being righteous—at least for Dean—means so much more than just obeying heaven. And of course, even after the threats, reminding Dean Hell would rise, my will of God speech, and asking him if he would ever disobey his own father, Dean still chose to go against us. I will never forget his words, “Sorry boys, looks like plans have changed…if you’re gonna smite this whole town then you’re gonna have to smite us with it because we are not leaving, see you went through the trouble of busting me out of Hell, I figure I’m worth something to the man upstairs, you wanna waste me? Go ahead, see how he digs that.”

Etched into my memory, will always be those simply spoken words, which seemed so easy leaving his lips; although I know the meaning, in every way possible, couldn’t be more complex. I will never forget the way every molecule in Dean’s body was throbbing with seriousness and I knew, deep down, Dean still didn’t even believe in God; so here is a man using God’s will as a safety net for himself, and a thousand others, and yet he’s faithless. This is a kind of man I have never heard of before. A man who, sitting next to me now, has almost completely forgiven me for using his weaknesses against him, for trying to force him to do merciless things that even I know are not ‘good.’ A man who, even as he looks over at me, with his green gems burning into my very grace, can somehow think himself to be worse than me. 

Undeserving is everything but Dean Winchester. I want to say something, grab his attention, and then scream at him until he understands what he really is. A man, just a man, which is in every way better and more just than all the occupants of heaven. A man, who despite never have sending a prayer to God in his life, somehow manages the abilities of making the right decisions better than any priests who have walked in Gods light for years. A man whose soul, even after forty years of torture from the deepest pits of Hell, still shined bright enough for me to find him with ease. A man who has forever changed an Angel. 

Still begging for judgment, Dean temps me to spill all these thoughts. But as the trees rustle around us, and I notice how Dean looks over at all the kids play, the kids he saved by making the right decisions I decide to take a different approach. Instead telling Dean that I, too, have questions, and doubts. That I no longer know what is right, and what is wrong. 

Dean understands me, and in that moment, more than ever, I wanted to open my mouth and add those last couple confessions, ‘You’re perfect Dean Winchester, I would follow your lead, your judgment, over my own any day.’

Instead I fly. 


End file.
